Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Tuesday Poem: "The Last Fluke"


The sea was once lover to the land,
caressing it with kisses
or biting it with passion.
The sea seeded us upon the land,
its siren song forever tattooed upon our genome.

From its deep heart it created malachite sculptures,
chiselled by reef and wind
and sacrificed in shards of white
to the beaches of the world.
And from these depths our cetacean siblings
sang to us, but we had
forgotten their lyric language.
Yet their forgiveness never waned
even as the last giant tail fluke
farewelled us as it sank
into the cauldron of poison we had created.







7 comments:

  1. Hi Andrew,
    wonderful creatures aren't they...like this bit
    'but we had

    forgotten their lyric language.'

    Great photos too.

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  2. cheers Andrew, good to see your environmental poem (and the great piccies) I just hope it's not prophetic.

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  3. I agree with Alicia -- hope this is not a glimpse of the future. I like the mournful tone of this, and the connection we can feel between land and see, us and them.

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  4. Thank you for your coments and following me! I follow you too, i love your style! kisses!!
    Love text messages

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  5. Avoid the person above this comment, Md Amirul Islam. I don't follow him , never heard of him until now, and when I checked out his blog, he'd stolen my poem and posted it as his and changed lots of the original text. I was angry to say the least and let him know in no uncertain terms. Here is his mangled theft:

    “The Last Fluke”

    The sea was at one time lover to the land,
    Cuddling it with kisses
    Revolves it with passion.
    The sea soughed us au courant the bring,
    its siren call forever tattooed au courant our genome.
    LOVE SHORT MESSAGES
    From its deep bosom it produced malachite graves,
    chiselled away reef and breaking wind
    and sacrificed in fragments of Andrew D. White
    to the beaches of the cosmos.
    And from this depths our cetacean mammal siblings
    Babbled out to U.S. government, but we had
    Buried their lyric nomenclature.
    Even so their forgiveness never waned
    Just as the last colossus tail good fortune
    farewelled us as it dipped
    into the cauldron of poisonous substance we had produced.

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  6. WTF! I'm sorry there are people like Md. Your poem evokes a theme that is dear to me. But the mangled version is a true horror. Again, I'm sorry. Your opening line is remarkable, and the rest follows suit.

    Ay my first reading, I read this line: "its siren song forever tattooed upon our genome," as "its siren song forever tattooed upon our program." Asking myself why, I realised I would have said "program" instead of "genome" because the latter is too constricted, too particular, and I'd want my readers to decide what program it was (even though it'd still be evident it was the human program). it takes nothing from your words, and I apologise again for the thieves in our midst.

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  7. Thanks, Rethabile, for your cogent appreciation and critique.

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